


The Price is Steep

by TwoCatsTailoring



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, Rude/Cheslea, Tseng/Aerith - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7213468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCatsTailoring/pseuds/TwoCatsTailoring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rude and Aerith will not see eye to eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price is Steep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writing_addiction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_addiction/gifts).



“You might as well come out. I know you are there, Rude.”

Aerith sighed as her Turk company for the afternoon complied without a word. “I can always tell that it’s you. When I can’t hear anyone, it has to be you.” She turned to give him her version of a motherly look before going back to tending the flowers in this patch of earth in the middle of a hole in a church floor.

Rude, for his part, said nothing but made the most noise that he’d made in the past hour as he took a seat on a pew and it creaked under his weight.

“The flowers are doing so well now, don’t you think? They suffered over the winter.” She did this, made conversation because to be honest, his silence bothered her. It was so complete and final. In all these years he’d probably said about a hundred words and most of those were ‘yes’ or ‘no.’

“Maybe everyone suffered this winter,” she mused. “Things have been tense for you all, haven’t they?” She straightened a bent stem and moved some dirt around. “It must have been. Tseng’s been sending people instead of coming himself.”

What Aerith did not realize was that Rude, of all the Turks, could read people very well. So the little droop of her shoulders as she said those words was not as undetectable as she thought. Rude knew, of course, that there was something there. Exactly what that something was he would not venture to put in words, but he knew that it was not an intellectual attraction that involved excellent conversation and the occasional coffee.

“It’s complicated,” came his reply, startling Aerith to the point that she turned sharply to look at him with a bold shock on her face. She recovered well, however. “He speaks! And the mortals quake in fear!” Her laugh was forced though.

His ensuing silence however gave rise to her talking again and that was why he used it so much. Because people did not like silence, particularly when they had things on their mind and there was never a time that she did not have something on her mind.

“I guess when it gets cold, it is harder to find the people you want to find. The huddle up inside and aren’t out, being visible and doing unspeakable things.” She stood and crossed to where the watering can lived. Filling it from the faucet, she crossed back and began to water the flowers.

Rude offered a small puff of air as a laugh at her statement, understanding full well that there were times over the winter when she had huddled up doing unspeakable things with his boss. Everyone knew it. And everyone knew that was why he was sending other people to the church now.

“But,” she went on more to herself, “not everything survives the winter.” She lapsed into silence then and Rude watched her.

As he watched he thought. She was right, of course. Very little survived winter in the slums. There were a great many things on the plate that could not survive the cold on the plate as well. And to carry the idea even further, sometimes the artificial heat was what killed as well.

“Not everything was meant to survive,” he commented quietly, thinking back to a different winter and a different girl. “Some things shouldn’t.” And he wanted to believe it, wanted so much to believe that it really had been wrong, that if he’d been reasonable like Tseng was being, and just not see her anymore, things would have worked out better. With less anguish.

She turned on him then, all pretenses dropped in favor of honesty and her own feelings. “What do you know of it? Chained to your desks and your suits and your cruelty? Have you all lost touch with your own humanity? Do you just not care anymore?”

Rude blinked at her, the outburst not being the usual for her but passion was up, her eyes flashed with anger or something related to it. Her hair was escaping from its ribbon and the waves plus his own memories tricked him for a split second. For a moment, he was hearing Chelsea again, saying something much the same.

“Caring costs too much,” he said plainly, coming back to the reality of the here and now. He leaned forward, forearms on his knees and gave her a level stare behind his sunglasses.  “Caring and humanity cost lives.”

She laughed then, an ugly, mocking sound coming from her usually sweet face. “Cost lives? If you cared at all you wouldn’t be out there doing whatever it is to cover up the evil ShinRa does! And if ShinRa cared, no one would have to die because of them!”

Rude stood and began to walk towards the shadows with a hollow spot open in his chest where another passionate, rebellious girl had left her brand. Accused him of horrible things but then walked into death before she would betray him. “I was talking about Turk lives. Goodnight, Miss Gainsborough. Gun will be by later to take over for me. Let me know if you would like her to bring anything.”


End file.
